


In Sickness and In Health.

by DeansArie



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cockles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Main character terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansArie/pseuds/DeansArie
Summary: Cancer is an indiscriminate disease. Young, old, rich, poor. It didn’t care who it attacked or hurt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a Cockles pairing.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> This will not go any further. I apologize to those that have been waiting.

Jensen knew waiting in the kitchen for Misha to get home was useless. The guy would just take the front stairs up to the bedroom and avoid him. Jensen beat him to the punch. Laying on their bed, his arms crossed over his chest, booted feet crossed at the ankles, Jensen stared at the open bedroom door. His normally bright and radiant green eyes were dark and stormy. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. It needed to happen, unfortunately. Misha, avoiding it, only made things worse.

The sound of the garage door closing had Jensen’s heart rate increasing. His breathing remained the same as he tracked his husband’s movements through the house. The soft thuds of his footsteps coming up the carpeted stairs turning the corner and walking down the hall to their room. Jensen raised his eyes as Misha’s shadow crossed the threshold into the room. The startled intake of breath followed by the widened electric blue eyes did nothing to ease Jensen’s anxiety.

Without saying a word, Misha lowered his eyes and walked over to the overstuffed wing back chair where he deposited his overcoat and briefcase. He didn’t need to ask Jen what was wrong or if he was alright. Misha had been avoiding him at every turn, knowing full well where the conversation would go to. “Not now, Jen.”

Unbuttoning his suit coat, Misha let it fall open as he walked over to his side of the bed and sat down. Lifting on foot, he started to take his shoe off only to be stopped but an exaggerated huff.

“Not now? When, Mish? When is a good time for you?”

Lowering his foot back to the floor, Misha let his upper body fall back on the bed. Lifting both feet, he braced against the edge of the bed and pushed back, his upper body sliding across the comforter until his head near the far edge. Lifting his hands to either side of his head, he pinched his temples with his thumbs. “I just can’.” Shaking his head, Misha closed his eyes and sighed.

“You just can’. Okay.” Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, Jensen stood and started to walk toward the door.

“Jensen, wait.” Snaking out his hand, Misha took hold of Jensen’s wrist. His firm but gentle grip stopping his husbands forward motion. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Misha slumped forward keeping his grip on Jensen’s wrist. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been avoiding this. It’s not fair to you.”

The muscle on Jensen’s jaw quivered and rolled as if it were a living thing and trying to escape. Without looking down at Misha, Jensen nodded slowly. “Yeah, you have an’ no, it’s not fair to me. Or to you or anyone else that knows an’ loves you.”

Turning to face Misha, Jensen slowly lowered himself down on his knees using his free hand to gently nudge Misha’s legs apart so he could get as close to him as possible. Running the palm of his hand over the top of Misha’s thigh, Jensen titled his head to the side to try and see his face better. “Mish…baby, look at me.”

He wouldn’t push, much. At least not right away. After several minutes of silence and no indication from Misha that he was going to comply, Jensen lifted his free hand. Using the side of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, he took hold of Misha’s chin and gently raised his head until he could see into his eyes. “Hey. I love you. M’not goin’ anywhere. Thick and thin, fer better or worse…sickness and health. I’m here for the long haul.”

The sting of tears had Misha blinking like a mad man to try and keep them at bay. It wasn’t working very well. “I love you, too.” Smiling sadly, he sniffled softly. Nodding slowly, Misha slowly wrapped his arms around Jensen’s shoulders and buried his face against the side of his neck.

Releasing the hold on Misha’s chin, Jensen wrapped his own arms around his husband’s shoulders pulling him in tight to his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. _You_ are gonna be okay.”

Cancer was an indiscriminate disease. Young, old, rich, poor. It didn’t care who it attacked or hurt. Six weeks prior, Misha had been diagnosed with early stage prostate cancer. It wasn’t a death sentence. Their oncologist said they’d caught it very early and the prognosis was good. It didn’t matter how early it was caught. Cancer was cancer. It was the **C** word that could make the toughest of men’s blood run cold.

“I’m scared, Jen.”

Tightening his arms, Jensen dipped his chin, pressing the side of his head against Misha’s. “I know. So am I.”

Lifting his head, Misha blinked as the tears slowly ran down his cheeks. “We have to tell the kids.”


End file.
